"Strike!" said the King. "King's blood art thou—his death shall be his pride!"
Then louder, that the crowd might catch: "Fear not—his arms are tied!"
Yar Khan drew clear the Khyber knife, and struck, and sheathed again.
"O man, thy will is done," quoth he; "A King this dog hath slain."
Abdhur Rahman, the Durani Chief, to the North and the South is sold.
The North and the South shall open their mouth to a Ghilzai flag unrolled,
When the big guns speak to the Khyber peak, and his dog-Heratis fly,
Ye have heard the song—How long? How long? Wolves of the Abazai!
"Thou knowest—thou hast heard,"—his speech died at his master's face.
The night before the watch was set, when all the streets were clear,
The Governor of Kabul spoke: "My King, hast thou no fear?